


When the Chips are Down

by lucybeetle



Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucybeetle/pseuds/lucybeetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto realises that baking with Alan wasn't such a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Chips are Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guava/gifts).



> Based on a Tumblr prompt from guava: A character saying "I love you" whilst baking chocolate chip cookies.

“Put the chocolate in,” said Makoto.

Alan opened the bag, and began sprinkling chocolate chips into the mixture; laboriously slowly, one at a time.

“You can do it a little quicker than that,” said Makoto. Alan blissfully ignored him, so Makoto decided it might just help to take over this bit if they wanted cookies any time this year. He took the bag out of Alan’s hands and tossed a handful of chips into the bowl, “One more spoon of sugar. Now stir.”

It had taken almost twenty minutes to teach Alan the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon, so the fact that he managed to get most of the sugar into the bowl could probably be counted as some form of progress. Alan stirred the mixture twice and then said “Can we eat it now?”

“No. You need to mix it for longer,” said Makoto.

After giving one more, feeble stir, Alan said “Why does it not look like it did when I ate it before?”

In retrospect, Makoto realised he should have known that trying to teach Alan to bake would in fact consist of doing everything by himself whilst Alan asked questions and demanded cookies. Alan had never had to get his own food in his life; until recently, he hadn’t needed to eat at all. He didn’t know what eggs, sugar and flour were, let alone how to measure them out or mix them into something edible. It wasn’t his fault, but when Alan tried a chocolate chip cookie and declared it delicious, Makoto probably should have just bought him some more instead of suggesting they bake some together.

Makoto stirred the mixture and then showed Alan how to divide it into cookie-sized blobs on a baking sheet. Alan dripped a considerable amount of it across the table but did, in the end, manage to make relatively even-sized cookies (with a bit of help.)

“They are still wet,” Alan observed.

“They have to go into the oven. I’m going to put them in there now. Do NOT touch it. You will burn your fingers off.”

“I’m not stupid, you know,” said Alan with a withering glance. “What is an _oven_?”

Makoto fought back the urge to kiss those perfectly shaped lips. Rather than answer Alan’s question, he went to put the cookies in to bake.

“They’re going to take thirty minutes to be ready,” said Makoto. “What shall we do until –” He turned around to see that Alan had stuck his hand right into the bag of chocolate chips and was stuffing handfuls of them into his mouth.

“Delicious,” said Alan, as Makoto rounded on him – “Makoto, do we have any more of these?”

 _Makoto._ He felt his heart warm a little. It somehow made everything between them feel more real; certainly more real than “Specter.” Specter existed for fighting. It had been the puppet under a prince’s control.

“Stop that,” said Makoto, and took the bag out of Alan’s hands, “You can’t eat all of these.” When Alan pouted, Makoto went on “You’ll get a stomach ache.”

That did the trick, at least. Alan sulked and put the bag down. Makoto silently thanked every deity in existence that Kanon and Fumi-baa, not he, had been the ones who had to explain to Alan about _that_ particular bodily function.

“The human body is so inconvenient. Its intake of food must be carefully regulated … and that food takes hours to cook,” said Alan.

“I said. Thirty minutes.”

Alan leaned over and kissed Makoto’s cheek.

“What’s that for?” said Makoto, who was trying hard to resist his instinctive reaction to wipe it off.

“Because I love you,” Alan said.

Faced with the choice between telling off Alan for this excessive display of slushiness, or giving him a proper kiss, Makoto chose the latter. Alan tasted of chocolate and his lips were as plump and soft as they had always been. Whether Makoto wanted to admit it or not, he’d missed Alan, when they were apart. He was still angry that Alan had turned him into Necrom Specter, and hurt; though he wanted to move past it. He knew _why_ Alan had done what he’d done, and with that, Makoto could begin to forgive.

Makoto’s arms came up to wrap around Alan’s waist.

“Is it thirty minutes yet?” said Alan.

“No. Go and sit down now. Don’t touch anything.”

There were twenty-four minutes left, and they were going to pass exceedingly slowly.


End file.
